Legacy
by The Great Pastachio
Summary: A Jedi Knight chose one clone above the others. This man was not an ordinary clone, he wasn't even a clone. He would never age. He would feel emotion. He would stray from the crowd a leave his legacy.
1. Chapter 1

As a grunt in the ranks of the First Order, I don't have much to say. I'm the commander of my tactics squad, L1, and a veteran of war. I fought on the side of the Empire back in the day, I have a wife and a daughter, and I'm still not aging. I started this log in the hopes that I have some kind of a mark on the galaxy, but that must be futile.

My tactics squad, consisting of 12 soldiers and I, are in fact all from the ranks of the Empire, we posted our camp is posted near the old Rebel Alliance's base on Hoth. It was raided and destroyed after the rebels destroyed our weapon, The Death Star, and we're here keeping about any Resistance soldiers looking to salvage ships or spare parts.

We throw a bit more wood on the orange flames as Tread, a veteran from the battle of Endor, recounts his tales of his time in the Empire.

"So as I was on my speeder bike, dodging trees and gunning down rebels, and Ewok jumped me!" Tread chuckles, obviously getting close to the punchline. "So I elbowed him off me, and he hit a rebel!" My regiment members laugh into the night, enjoying themselves.

I stand up and walk out on a ledge overlooking the desolate, ice covered desert. The fallen, broken AT-AT look as if they're crying into the frozen ground. As I look into the blue moon dipping below the snowy mountains, I spot a movement. What I thought was just a landslide, I decipher now as 15 Resistance troop carriers speeding across the field.

I yell at my men, "up! We've got Resistance troops coming in, about sixty!" The veteran soldiers stand at attention, blasters at the ready. The troop carriers land twenty feet in front of us. They come out waving white flags as yelling for us not to fire. We keep our guns at the ready, but are prepared to listen.

"Sniper!" someone yells. We all hit the ground and roll off into a snow bank. I shoulder roll forward and peer around the corner. The rebels charging toward our position are soon put to an end and silenced. We advance forward, knocking down a few other soldiers in our trek towards the camp.

About two thirds of their troop carriers have landed in the hanger and are starting to sweep the premises for any threats. We force our way into one of the ships and take control. I tell Kahn, a veteran from the battle of Tattooine, to signal for reinforcements. A few troops we could handle, but fifty or sixty… I don't like our odds.

We clear out of the ship and make our way up to the shattered base that was once a thriving operation. The Rodian sniper we spotted earlier makes no appearance, but as we make our way to the wreckage of a snow speeder, we're spotted. The rebels open fire, and we quickly take them out. A makeshift alarm rings out through the still night. More troops flood out, and, we're outnumbered! My second in command, Dare, gets a laser in the leg and has to take a knee, but still fires.

We gun down a few, but more just take their place. I pull the cord and chuck a thermal imploder at them. An implosion rings out as the grenade sucks them in and throws them away. We take cover behind a few metal walls and wait, not daring to even breathe. A hear blast of energy and a rippling humming sort of noise. I peer over my cover and my heart almost stops. Standing there is a Jedi master, light saber drawn. I hide myself before he sees and press the silent panic button on my communicator.

My heart is running a marathon around my ribcage as a cold sweat breaks out. I hear a blast. One of my men has opened fire. "No you idiot!" I scream. It's too late. The Jedi lunges forward, ending three of my men's lives right before my eyes. Ruben, Tack, and Thinker. A piece of my heart shatters within my chest.

Ruben, the red haired, freckled face likable charmer with a breathy laugh. We ate lunch everyday, right next to one another. Tack, the boy, barely looked eighteen, dense green eyes, always with a few wisps of facial hair, they guy everyone picked on but loved like a brother. And Thinker. Thinker. I can't begin to describe how much Thinker is to me. He's the one I confided in out in the field. He's the one who always cheered me up. Slapped me on the back for doing a good job. Even cleaned up the messes I clumsily made. We were posted on Endor together. Riding speeder bikes together, eating lunch, sharpening up at the range…

I remember this one time, we climbed a tree to eat our dinner and were gazing into the forest, when we spotted a pond. The next day we got our rods and fished all day. Thinker was my friend. More than that, a real brother I could trust, love, and be beside every day. I see his helmet, a burning, sizzling, blood covered hole in it. And I snap.

The Jedi swings for me next. I knock his hand out of the way with my blaster, grab the old man's shoulders, and bring my knee up. When I hit him where the sun doesn't shine, he gives a breathy squeal and crumples to the ground. He's in the fetal position when he freezes.

Kylo Ren's modified voice booms, "that will be enough, L1789. I can take the prisoner from here." Kylo Ren orders 5 troopers to escort the Jedi back to his ship. He then turns, and follows. First Order stormtroopers quell the remaining rebels and start to salvage the troop ships. My and my remaining nine men pack up camp and board our troop carrier. Back to base, back to home, back to Tattooine we go.

When the ship lands, I'm tired and ready to sleep. A captain directs our tactics squad towards our quarter block. We shower, dress in casual drabs, and crowd around the small metal table in our minuscule room. We lay our mementos on the table, a scarf here, a torn and bloody glove… The silence in the room reflects each of our emotions. Depression, mourning, and overall questioning.

After the respective session, we climb into our bunks, three of which lay empty, and doze off into the comfort of sleep. Upon my awakening I can instantly see I'm dreaming. I'm in a deep cave with a few wreckages around me, a Tie Fighter wing here, a piece of the Death Star there, and a few ships I've never seen. A man wearing a brown robe sits hunched in a circle of light. I can't move, so I try to call out. He flinches and turns on me, rising.

"Go!" he screams, "run! Get the hell out of here! Can't you see it coming?" Behind him a loud roar resonates through the cave. "It's too late!" A massive set of claws tears through his body and drags him back into the darkness, and the light dissipates. I awaken for real this time. I can tell because I'm groggy and hungry.

My squad and I eat breakfast, shower, put on our armor, and join the ranks for morning role call. The officer takes roll and then directs us to General Phantasma. The General takes position.

"Troops!" She begins. "Today marks a turning point in the galaxy!" She lets the words sink in. I look around the room. A high ceiling, steel all around, First Order banners hanging on all the walls. "Today, the First Order will conquer all of the planet of the two suns! Will shall rule Tattooine!" We all stomp our right foot twice in consent. We're all directed into the court yard to where we'll be assigned our missions. Mine and three other groups are given coordinates to a small village.

We board the troop carriers and prepare the long ride to our operation. When we arrive, I'm directed to stay in the carrier with my squad until we were needed.

We sit in the darkness, telling a few jokes but mostly waiting in suspense. We here gunfire, explosions, screams, but no call. Finally, the door opens and a commander ushers us out.

As we storm out into the desert, I freeze.

The village we've been assigned to is where my friends, I, and my family live.


	2. Chapter 2

I snap. Before I know what I'm doing, I've killed thirteen stormtroopers. The others on the spot aim for me, but I force my hand towards them. They're all blasted back.

"How did I do that?" I think. There's no time to question it. Off in the distance I spot three Resistance X-Wings headed my way. I blast four more stormtroopers and am able to bring down one of the oncoming ships. They land, their pilots emerging with blasters. I shoulder roll to the side as a laser goes over my head.

I fire at the two soldiers and two souls join the dead. Three last stormtroopers emerge and are put dead in their tracks. I stand alone next to the fire engulfed buildings I once called home. I push my way through the ash and smoke to what remains of my sandstone house. Inside are the corpses of my beautiful wife and eight year old daughter. I retrive my daughter's necklace, which is only slightly scorched, and clutch it tight and leave the building, not looking back.

Emerging out of the fire, I find that Kylo Ren himself has landed with a regiment of stormtroopers.

"Soldier," he says in his deep, modified voice. "Why are your men dead?" I realize that I have murdered my own squadron.

"They were rebellious," I formulate, "and I put a stop to them." Kylo Ren turns and boards his ship.

An officer approaches me and says monotonously, "You are relieved of your position and duties. May the First Order burn in your heart." He boards the ship, and it takes off. When it's out of sight, I slump the ground and ball into the sand. My family, my squad, everyone I called my friend is dead.

"Laurens," a voice calls out. My name is Laurens. When I started a life away from the army, someone had suggested it to me and it stuck. Everyone in my private life knew me as Laurens, but they're all dead. Who is speaking to me?

"It is I," I respond shakily.

"Get up," the voice commands. I stand up and look around for the speaker. Nothing.

"Who are you, lord?" I call out.

"Do not think of me as a higher form," the voice says, "I am Kit Fisto, former Jedi Knight. I have called above your clone brethren to feel like a human being. The Force is coursing through your veins, I have found a form in you. Now go, take to the stars and find the Yandtal system. It is just beyond this galaxy. There, you will find where I want you to go." I slog over to one of the X-Wings, and get in. The cockpit closes around me and I sigh into the musty air.

There is no way I'm keeping this. I fly past the planets of my galaxy, past the surrounding astroid planets, and into the barely charted Yandtal system. There's one planet am I doing this? Why am I following the supposed voice of a Jedi Knight? How do I know it's not me going insane? I don't, but everyone I love is dead, I've been kicked out of the army, and I have no where to go.

I realize something. I used the Force. I must be the embodiment of a Jedi, or even a Sith, because no clone can harness the Force. I land on the rocky planet known in the maps only as No.

Ditching the X-Wing, I make my way across the rocks, triping occasionally. The rocks are a dark brown, and I can't see any ground under them. Finally, after stumbling around in the light of the three moons for at least two hours, I see lights in the distance. I pick up the pace and soon stumble down a rocky hill onto patchy dirt.

Jogging towards the light I can soon decipher squat grey buildings and tarp tents much like the in Tattooine villages. I stumble into town and lean against a wall, catching my breath.

A few sideway glances are thrown my way, and I wonder why. Then, I realize I'm still dressed as a soldier. I browse the markets and come up with a box of spare parts and a new food I've never heard of called Prant. It's similar bread, but has a more grainy texture. I eat it hungrily as I walk around the town. I eventually enter a bar and order the drink of the day, one of my old favorites, Blugre.

I remove my helmet and set on the counter. I chug down at least two glasses, when someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around and look down at the tiny hooded figure with a cane. He mutters in a strange voice. "Come with me, you will." I pickup my helmet and carry it with me, following the old midget. We sit at a table against the and he nods. I see a green, three fingered, clawed hand slide a small cylinder wrapped in a brown cloth.

I strart to unfold the cover, but he stops me. "Not here. In private, you must. Too many eyes, there are." I grip the package and slip out of the bar with my helmet on. Crouching behind some boxes, I undo the cloth. What opens into my hands is a light saber. I rumage through and fiddle with my spare parts until I've strapped the weapon to my right thigh.

I can move comfortably, and it's still concealed. The sun peaks over the horizon as I walk around. I chat with a few locals about the place. The village is known as Tradled 4, and the planet's name is Burkrux, nicknamed "Yandtal's Throat." Apparently, anyone passing into the Yandtal system pit stops here. I'm pointed down a road that leads to a larger city.

"Go," a woman says to me, "there you can buy transport." I purchase a black cloak and put it on. They say a storm is blowing in and you wouldn't want to be caught without protection. I switch out my right, white stormtrooper glove for a green, thermal one.

I then replace my right boot with a green boot that grips the ground more efficiently. As I'm treading along the path, wind kicks up and I have to put on my helmet. I keep walking.

Rain begins to pour down, and I pull up my hood. Suddenly, a voice rings out. Five bandits emerge from the wet, black rocks and surround me. I try to pull out my gun, but it's water logged. Stupid First Order technology!

I ready my fists. Looks like those extra years of commander hand-to-hand combat training will pay off. The bandits circle around me as at least seven more join them, calling out their war cry. One lunges at me and I knock his lights out.

There's too many now. I can count twenty surrounding me. I do the only thing left. I pull out the light saber, and draw the blade. The bandits step back uncertainly as I show off the green saber. One is brave enough and steps in for a swing at me.

I slash my blade across his chest and he cries out in pain, falling to the ground.

The other bandits go mental and swarm me.


End file.
